Doctor Tucker
by JPH
Summary: Malcolm Tucker as the Doctor. Sweary language, goes without saying
1. Chapter 1

'Please don't change …' whispered Clara, her fingertips an inch from the Doctor's flaming hand. She finally understood what was about to happen, but it didn't make it any more bearable. She tried to capture the face before her while she could … the dangling lock of hair, the bow tie, the reassuring smile.

Without warning, the face changed. Clara gasped. The man had receding grey hair and bloodshot, vicious-looking eyes. He was wearing a business suit and an expression that made Clara step back in shock; never before had she been on the receiving end of such a murderous stare. It seemed to disable her voicebox.

A stunned silence had fallen, broken only by the familiar whirring and hissing of the TARDIS.

'Don't look so scared, love, I'm not about to take my pants off,' he said in an impatient Scottish accent. 'Where the fuck are we?'

Clara stood there in shock, not least because she had never heard the Doctor swear before; she'd assumed aliens had no interest in that portion of the human vocabulary.

'Erm – well, we're in the TARDIS.'

The man rolled his eyes and began wandering around the panels.

'Thanks for stating the fucking obvious, love. I meant where are we in time and fucking space! Is Hitler out there rubbing his solitary bollock against the door, or are we on that planet from Avatar, Hogwarts or whatever the fuck it's called?'

'OK, I think you just need to calm down –'

'Calm down?' shouted the Doctor, pulling levers and flicking switches. 'We're in the middle of fucking nowhere in a flying fucking box, don't you dare tell me to calm down! Now, I suggest you keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut while I try and land this piece of shite.'

Clara scowled, anger bubbling inside her. The Doctor never spoken to her like this. _Never._ Had he developed Tourette's during the regeneration?

'Listen, I don't know what's happened to you and I don't know if you even remember anything about me, but you should treat me with a bit more respect!' said Clara boldly. The Doctor gave no sign that he was listening, but continued to tinker with the TARDIS, occasionally insulting the control panels. 'If you don't want me anymore, that's fine by me, but I thought my company meant more than that to you.'

'There's no need to get all emotional, sweetheart, this isn't fucking X Factor. And I thought I told you to keep your mouth –'

BOOM!

'FUCK!' cried the Doctor as the whole TARDIS jolted violently. Clara shrieked and clutched a rail for support. 'What the fuck is this, the RETARDIS?'

He yanked on a lever like a lawn mower. The TARDIS seemed to come to a standstill and silence fell. The Doctor strode past Clara and opened the door.

'Where are we?' asked Clara apprehensively.

'No place good,' was the reply.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Clara looked out. They appeared to have touched down in a long, dark hallway lined with people hunched along one wall. It was a pathetic sight. Men, women and a few children, either asleep or too weak to move, but they were at least breathing. The smell was horrific.

'Shitting hell,' breathed the Doctor. 'What's this, the queue for the shower?'

Clara glared at him and crouched before the nearest woman, old and thin, with a rag over her mouth. Clara felt an upsurge of pity. They were all shivering and looked desperately underfed.

'Oh my God,' she whispered, touching the woman's face. Her eyes flickered open at Clara's touch. 'Can you hear me? Are you OK?'

'Oh yeah, look at her, she looks fucking fine doesn't she,' said the Doctor with derisive sarcasm.

Clara felt like screaming at him, but the last thing she wanted was to make these people more distressed.

'Are you going to just stand there and swear, or are you actually going to help?' she hissed through gritted teeth.

'Nothing we can do to help,' the Doctor shrugged.

'You must be able to think of something, you always do,' retorted Clara, trying to make it sound like an accusation rather than a compliment. 'These people are nearly dead!'

'But they're not. They're still alive because someone wants them to be.'

'You must help us,' croaked the old woman unexpectedly.

'… being kept alive on purpose, so there must be someone or something holding them here,' the Doctor was muttering.

'Please … we don't want to stay here anymore … we want to leave,' wheezed the woman.

'Would you mind keep your fucking mouth shut, love, I'm trying to think!' exploded the Doctor and the woman fell silent, but started sobbing weakly. Along the corridor, people were coming round, rubbing ash from their eyes and moaning.

Suddenly, a voice spoke from the darkness, echoing down the narrow hall. Deep, mechanical, unhuman.

'Trespassers detected. Section 14. One human. One untraceable. Trespassers, state your purpose.'

'Show yourself!' the Doctor snarled.

'Trespassers, state your purpose or you will be – deleted.'

The Doctor marched down the corridor towards the source of the noise, ignoring the stirring people. Reluctantly, Clara followed.

Then a small blue light flicked on, throwing a figure into relief. It was human in shape and shape, but had a square rod fixed over its head; the blue light shone from its chest and the body gleamed silver as they approached.

'_Cybermen_,' said Clara in a terrified whisper.

'You have not stated your purpose,' said the Cyberman emotionlessly. 'You have no purpose. You are not one of us. You must be deleted.'

It raised an arm and there was a great rush of electricity. Clara gasped and turned away.

'Oh, fuck off!' shouted the Doctor and kicked the thing in the stomach. The Cyberman keeled over with a heavy clanking sound. The Doctor stamped on the deadly arm and crouched down.

'What's going on here, you tin foil twat? Why are all these people here? I was under the impression this was a Cyborg-only planet.'

'I am not authorised to disclose that information.'

The Doctor kicked its head and leant in even closer.

'I'm going to ask again, and you're going to give me a straightforward fucking answer, or else you can follow the yellow brick road up my hairy anus, you Cyberfuck. Why are there humans here?'

'They are part of the Third Campaign. They are an essential piece to Leader Genesis' plans,' said the Cyberman, and its blue light flickered and died.

'The Third Campaign? Leader Genesis? What the fuck are you on about?'

'What's going on here? Who are you?'

Footsteps sounded from further down the hallway, and the Doctor straightened up. A rotund man with a flabby chin and round glasses was toddling towards them. The way he completely disregarded the line of starving people and the fact he himself was extremely well-fed made him instantly untrustworthy in Clara's eyes.

He caught sight of the Cyberman on the floor and looked disparagingly at the Doctor and Clara.

'You killed one of my soldiers?' he said in a huffy voice. 'How dare you? Who are you, and how did you get in?'

'That's not important. What's important is that you understand that I'm in charge here and I'm the one who asks the questions –'

'Excuse me, I'm the head of this corporation –'

'Don't you dare interrupt me, you fat fuck. Don't you fucking interrupt me, ever. Is that clear?'

The man nodded once, looking petrified.

'This,' said the Doctor, kicking the unmoving Cyberman, 'isn't yours. It's not a soldier, it's a Cyberman. This thing could rip off your lard arse at any given time and use it to fucking insulate these walls. They have a leader, OK, and they certainly don't give a flying monkey's arsecrack about you.'

'You don't know what you're saying,' said the man boldly. 'They trust me. They follow me. I'm the only human here and they do everything I say. _I_ am their leader.'

'Excuse me, you're not the only human here!' piped up Clara, pointing down the corridor. 'What about all these people? Why are they starving to death?'

'They are all criminals back on earth, and this is their punishment, missy, a little community service. They have been gifted to me to take part in some experiments and they will return to earth at the end of their sentence – assuming they survive.'

Clara desperately wanted to ask the Doctor where and when the TARDIS had landed them, but her hatred for this man dissolved that concern from her mind.

'That's sick,' was all she could get out.

'It's necessary,' said the man. 'And it's justice. And now I must decide what to do now I have two more wrong-doers in front of me.'

'This isn't a question of what you'll do to us,' growled the Doctor. 'It's a question of what I'll do to you, if you don't take me to your experiment zone right now. Here's what I'll do. See this? It's a sonic fuck-upper. It can cut through anything, including your wife's vaginal canal. So here's what I'll do. I will fucking draw a line with this from between your eyes right down to the end of your cock and watch your insides spill out like a fucking Cornish pasty. Then I'll dip the lot in a bucket of acid and shove it all back inside, then sew your skin back together with a fucking needle and thread.'

The man gulped and beckoned them forward.

'No,' the Doctor said to Clara as she made to follow. 'You stay here and take care of this lot. There's food and drink in the TARDIS, just try not to touch anything else, especially my stack of dildos.'

Clara screwed up her face in disgust.

'Fucking joking, love!' he said, smiling for the time. Clara shook her head and retreated, while the Doctor and the portly man headed into the underground labyrinth.


End file.
